


Bubble Lights

by kyburg



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Bubble Lights, Gen, Grief/Mourning, I'll Be Home For Christmas, Pepperony - Freeform, claura, home base, inadvertant musical, quinjets need love too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 07:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5699875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyburg/pseuds/kyburg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two things people assume belong to Tony Stark - one, he's a people collector and two, he's given more people a home than any other (because he has so many of them).</p>
<p>What if that wasn't true, and somebody else wanted the job?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bubble Lights

**Author's Note:**

> So sorry this as late as it is - Real Life conspired to derail me. Hope you enjoy it!

Why he'd thought Barton's bunk had been parked on a helicarrier somewhere (not his look-out if it was in the air or in the water), Tony Stark wasn't sure. Neat and tidy, maybe. Long association with SHIELD, so why not assume that most of his work junk lived there, right? He'd lived there, right? Nobody knew, or really given it a second thought.

When he'd found out where he actually lived, the first reaction had been irritation at being punked so well. Nick Fury had at least been a spy's spy. Tallie Rushmore (Natasha Romanov, understood but she started this, how? By lying to me, that's how so I call her what I want, because), fool me once and never again - but Barton? Come on, the guy was right there in front of you, bold as brass and twice as loud.

Turns out he was so large and in charge, he could hide a small tribe behind him. Family farm with a south forty, big enough to land two or three quins. Work junk everywhere.

Punked. And that took some doing, he'd had Agent lessons.

The paper airplane sitting on the workbench in Tony's shop today was bright purple origami-grade paper with a note written on the inside. When had it arrived? Somewhere between Getting In Last Night and Now. While he'd been there working.

_"Dear Bigger Asshole Than Me," the note read. "I realize Christmas has sucked little green rocks through a straw backwards the last few years, and you really don't have a place to hang your stockings this year - all your fault \- but, still._

_"Please come home and let me put a baby in your arms, get your girl a decent vacation and ask to you help me put the bubble lights on the Christmas tree._

_"Also, I have lasagna. And just finished putting together the granny cabin out back. I need eyes on you, man. Say no at your own risk."_

He had ways of sending a message in return. He had a working phone, like most reasonable adults. _"No can do. Work."_

The response was immediate. _"You want work? I'm stuck out here doing odds jobs because my quinjet threw a rod. Get out here. Something to do with the onboard AI. Your fault. You fix. Or else."_

Come home.

And he had said please. 

Pepper had played with the little airplane with such a look of wonder and wry amusement he knew there would be no help from her quarter. "I wonder what he considers a decent vacation when there's a new baby in the house," she'd murmured quietly.

"Maybe he just wants some cheap babysitters. He certainly isn't looking for experience, coming to us."

"Or maybe he just wants to fix that. What's a granny cabin?"

"Place you stick guests you want to forget about. AKA Mother-In-Law House. A bedroom, bathroom, hotplate and a mini-fridge. Usually. Maybe."

She made a face, sighting along the long end of the airplane before she launched it. "He's got the skills to make it cozy, I'll give him that. Also, bolt-hole. You'd think he knew you."

"I don't hide. And I don't hate people. In general." That got him a direct look with raised eyebrows and a cocked head, softened by a fond smile. "Sheesh, you get a reputation, honestly," he muttered as he sent a text message.

_"Watch your six, I'll try to come in at a reasonable hour to wake the kids and keep them up all night."_

He didn't have to wait long for a reply, the bounce back was nearly instantaneous. _"Tonight, then. You wake them up, they're all yours."_

Tony grimaced at the phone as he tapped out the reply. "Asshole. Sure, sure. Tonight. I'll just toss a few things together and bam, instant holiday. Pep?"

Having picked the plane up from the floor, she had already seated herself behind her desk, fingers flying over the keys as she looked at the screen still smiling. And then she started humming. _Oh, this is not good. Not good -_

"That is not 'I'll Be Home For Christmas,' better not - "

She only gave him a sly look out of the corner of her eye. "Santa Claus is coming to town. We can pick this up on the way to the yard, you know that."

"Pick up - now wait a minute."

"I curated your entire art collection for nearly two decades, I can do your Christmas shopping...in less than five minutes. Done! Now, to set the out of office up - there...and voila! I'm on vacation. Ta da."

Folding her hands on the desk in front of her, Pepper gave him the best 'butter won't melt in my mouth' grin before rising to cross to him with her hands opening up to take his. "I'm going to regret this," he heard himself say. "I'm going to put you and Barton in the same room together. This is not going to end well."

"I'm including a HoneyBaked Ham, you won't starve."

"That does not help. This is Barton's house, you'll need four of them."

He did eyeball Rose Hill as he flew over, little spot on the map that it was. The roads were still in one piece, the lights were still shining, and somewhere down there Harley's Mom was driving a hybrid Pepper had replaced the Mustang with.

Eh, Harley would be driving soon. Mustang in the bank for Harley, then.

Remembering the Barton farm in the height of summer, Tony found himself trying to imagine it under the foot or so of snow he knew had just fallen there. _It's going to look like a hack-ass Christmas card, snow on the rooftop and all._ And it did - for a few moments, until he forgot he'd never known people lived in Christmas card scenes when Clint opened the door and peered out, pulling a hoodie closed against the cold air.

_Someone I know lives here. Someone who left the light on so I'd know where to go. That they were waiting up, just for me. So this is what that's like. Huh._

"Oh my," he heard Pepper breathe softly. 

"You're impressed? No, really. Seriously?" But the grousing was half-hearted, at best. "The couch is ancient and lumpy, there's no cell signal except for the satellite uplink you don't see - what is that face, that face you have on - come on, don't tell me you actually like this - "

Pepper only turned and kissed him lightly on the nose. "It's adorable. This is where you were?"

"Yeah. Hot and cold running heebee jeebees, that was us."

"And Clint still wanted me to come. I think I'm flattered."

The Christmas lights rimming the edges of the roof and windows turned Pepper's face into a polka-dotted wonder as Clint extended a hand for her to shake in introduction, a genuine smile brightening her face as he passed her inside.

Hearing Laura's dulcet tones echo Pepper's, Tony stepped onto the porch to greet Clint in the much the same way, but did not react in alarm when the handshake quickly ended as he was pulled into a bearhug, comfortably thumped on the back. "You know, people have died in the past for this, I'll have you know." But it was spoken into a shoulder. "Okay, better now?"

"Much better, "he heard in his ear. "You even smell good."

"Ah - okay. Good. I think. I worry you in a good way, then. You just worry me, period. So we're clear on that."

"Eeyeah, maybe." **Thunk.** "Get inside, it's cold out here."

They hadn't woken the children. By the time Tony had gotten the cold weather gear off, Pepper had been seated in a rocking chair by the fire and as he watched, Laura put Nate into her arms. Just a shift here, and adjustment there and she was gently rocking herself with him in her arms, as natural as if she did it every day as Laura knelt on the floor next to them. "That's my girl," he heard himself say. "Honey, don't break the baby, I can't fix or replace it."

"You're next," she replied over a shoulder.

"Not a chance."

The Bartons took the opportunity of showing them around the house as they helped Pepper put Nate back into his crib for the remainder of the night - "Maybe, " Clint said softly, as they drew the door nearly shut behind them.

Moving to the back of the house, Clint first pointed out the little building towards the back of the yard and then escorted them to it while Laura remained behind.

The little A-frame house was tiny, less than 90 square feet, cut in half and sandwiched on top of itself. There was just enough room for a large-enough (but not king-sized) bed in the loft over a sitting room where a wood-fed stove took center stage. A bathroom with a shower sat under the staircase ("Hot tub outdoors in the summer, too cold even to joke about right now, sorry"), and in a little nook to its side was a counter with cupboards above and below. Coffeemaker and microwave in place, it was warmer than the house itself had been.

Just enough.

"Laura said we needed to be better prepared for company, considering." Trailing a finger along the edge of the window, Clint took a closer look at some of the weatherstripping. "Before you ask, yes I put the systems in you asked for. Sent over. All of it. Including...here." Crossing to the cupboards, he tapped on the wall adjacent to them to reveal a pull-out screen that lit up immediately to show the perimeter of the little cottage, the main house and the other buildings on the property, all lit in glowing shades of green. "See, there's your quin making nice nice with mine."

"Your quin had nothing but nice things to say to me, Barton."

"Nothing wrong that a visit from Dad wouldn't fix. It hates me, so - "

"Bull. You tried cracking the StarkCloak again, knucklehead. Told you not to."

"Can't blame a guy for trying. Would have been a great present."

Stepping to the screen, Tony sighed and quickly tapped in a number of commands that expanded the perimeter from the farm out to most of the state, then the country as he began to take in the information being reported. "Thanks, Clint. See you in the morning? Yeah, get some sleep while the kid lets you and all that. Shoo."

"Because _we_ will, thanks Clint." Pepper added, emphasizing the second word as she slid the screen out from under Tony, giving Clint a gentle push towards the door. "Nope, no coffee. Bed. Now."

If Clint had left smirking, Tony wasn't going to acknowledge it.

The screen disappearing back into the wall was worth a wistful look, but he wasn't going to pitch a battle over it when he was clearly outnumbered. It was a good system, it would alert on anything incoming from a few hundred mile radius and he'd just expanded it three-fold. Okay, good enough.

The two quins, put together, had plenty of surprises enough between them. It was as safe as it was going to get.

Left alone, it was so quiet they could hear the snow begin to fall as the flakes, big and fat, hit the peaked roof above their heads. "He's safe, and warm," Pepper said softly, lying close under the thick duvets, "Where do you think he is tonight?"

"Banner? Somewhere in the Bikini Atoll where nobody goes. Where nobody looks, too hot, background radioactivity high. Good hiding place for him. He'd know."

It was a mantra, a litany, and every night, Banner went somewhere nobody else went, nobody saw and nobody cared to search. It was as true as any other assumption one could make, and before long sleep found them both while Bruce Banner became an happy, avid word-class adventurer in their dreams.

###

Christmas Eve began with waffles, pecans or bananas optional, jam, powdered sugar, Nutella or maple syrup. It had noisy children, a noisier baby with four adults who tried to hold intelligent conversations over the din - and failed, most of the time.

Everything was sticky afterward. Everything.

But it ended with a cup of coffee, taken in the same rocking chair by the fire as Laura herded her brood towards bathrooms and bedrooms. Coffee, a warm fire that Pepper added wood to before she sat down in the armchair facing him to watch with a wary eye. Years later, she still didn't like open flames but that was his game duck, she'd sit and keep him company anyway.

_You're never going to be okay as long as you're with me._ He'd said it, and meant it. Somehow, here she still was.

One foot bobbing as she rested her chin in one hand, looking into the flames. The kids came down the stairs, calling out to them as they hit the mudroom and then the great outdoors, the sounds of one of their parents - Laura, this time - following them.

He put the empty mug down on the end table, getting ready to rise himself when Clint dropped a freshly bathed, swaddled and very awake Nate into his lap. He caught him, sure he did but it had been close with a hiss of surprise and indrawn breath before he looked down and met the eyes of Clint's youngest. Who looked back up at him as nonplussed as he felt.

"Hi, kid. Um, help I need an adult?"

Clint only crouched down next to his elbow. "You're fine. Look, you're a natural."

"He's moving."

"He's alive," one of the most deadly assassins Tony had ever met replied, a saucy grin forming up under a weather eye. "And you're new. Take a good look."

"He's going to cry. I'm going to make him cry - "

"He cries. He's a baby. They do that." A calm hand rested on the top of Nate's head, as the baby tracked on the sound of Clint's voice. "He's not scared - but you are. Relax. Nothing's going to happen here that you can't handle. More chaos theory, Tones. You're not going to hurt him."

"What am I doing then?"

"Getting acquainted. Which...you are acing, at the moment. Relax. You got this."

The baby looked at him, he looked at the baby. Blinking slowly, Nate put his fist in his mouth, gave it a couple of half-hearted knaws and fell asleep. "Weird."

Pepper laughed at that one, and suddenly that made it all okay again.

There was an ancient upright piano in the other room, so badly out of tune he couldn't leave it be so he tuned it. That chased everyone out of the house so well, he sat down and played it too once he finished.

Then that reminded Tony of Obie, and he was secretly glad again that he'd used the grand piano back at the house as ammunition. Obie had been the only one who'd played the thing anyway. Well, after his mother, who had chosen it and played for him when he'd asked. He'd learned to read music by turning the pages for her.

Sighing, he stopped playing. The whole house was still and quiet, and he was alone.

And he liked that even less.

But when he turned to get up, Clint was already there, standing in the doorway with two steaming mugs in hand and stepped up to hand him one, looking him in the eye while he did so.

"Barton, why am I here? Me being here makes as much sense as a toilet paper roll bazooka."

"I like having you here. You tinker and fix things. Nobody else does that. When I do it, I drive Laura nuts. When you do it, I have company. That's one reason."

"Your quin does not get lonesome. The AI in my quin does not need to gossip with yours. Everything here works perfectly, and I can't find another piece of tech to jam into another outlet. Short of an anti-aircraft battery, I got nothing more for you."

"Didn't ask for stuff. Didn't ask you to bring stuff. Just wanted to put eyes on you again."

"I worry you? You know, they say things about that."

"Not worried. Just wanted. It's not that I don't see you - turn the television on, check the news and I see you every day," he said, shrugging. "Worried? Nah. It's not that. Was thinking about something else."

Tony didn't have an answer for that, so he cocked his head. "You said, come home. Why?"

"Because." Pulling a chair to him, straddling it still holding the coffee mug as he sat down, Clint looked at the floor, visibly gathering his thoughts. "Cap called, you know he does - 'bout once a week or so, checking in, he calls it. That's an old Stark property they converted up there into a new training facility, but Cap calls it home. You don't. I checked in to where you were working, it's another one of the Stark Towers you were building before the Battle of New York. Just, another one. Has its own set of everything, but nobody calls it home."

Clint shifted on the seat, clearly uncomfortable with his thoughts, taking a long drink out of his mug as Tony continued to listen himself, then nodded and spoke.

"Haven't given up on the idea of rebuilding the Malibu house, not entirely but - " With a shrug, Tony looked away. "Maybe it's better left as is. Jury's still out."

"Where the hell do you call home, anyway?"

"Everywhere, and nowhere. Same as I thought you did - until, y'know, you decided we all needed to show up on your doorstep. This...charming fixer of yours. That you kept a secret from all of us."

"Point, but I really got to thinking after that. See, I know there probably isn't a place in the world you can't go and find something that you own and just shack up in it. So far, you've given the Initiative enough real estate you'd think you were McDonald's or something."

The mug was stoneware, rough and warm in his hand and gave Tony another place to focus his attention. "See, that's why I like you. Most people would think McDonald's was in the business of feeding people for money, but you noticed they're not - "

"C'mon, they're everywhere. They allow their tenants to make just enough money to keep paying rent, it's a racket." Then he chuckled. "Are there any places left that mean anything more to you than a deed or a ledger entry somewhere? Don't answer that, it's okay. I kinda know, already. I've been by your places. They all look perfect, way too expensive and brand new. I look for something of you or your girl, and there's a photograph, maybe. It's like visiting a long string of resort hotels."

"Thank you for creeping me completely out, no offense I'm sure. Blame my Dad, he was the acquisition fiend. I just need a place to work, and I'm good." Tony took a long pull from his mug, waiting for Clint to look him in the eye again. "It's okay, there's enough to spare. Tax write offs, less stuff to keep track of. It's a good use for things that would just go wanting, whatever sounds best. Since you've been to all of them, sounds like."

"You've never been home, not once. I remember the Malibu house, that was home."

"Creepy, I told you about that. Wait - don't tell me, I'll have to find you an epithet like Romanov's. You were with Agent and Thor then."

"I came by after. Reasons."

"Yeeah, thanks. You and sneaky sneaky kind of worry me sometimes. Like now. You're after something, Barton."

Scrubbing his hair with one hand, the other still gripping the mug, Clint rolled his eyes, grimaced good-naturedly, then blew air. "I'm after something, for sure. I want something."

"If it was money, you'd have given me a list. So that's out."

"Nope, got enough of that."

"Not that you spend it."

"Nah. Didn't grow up with it, kinda suspicious of it. Buy things once, wear it out then get another one just like it. Works."

"So, not money. You want Pepper for a godmother or something? She'd love it, but I'd suck at the job."

"Not true, I've seen you in action. Philanthropist, even when it's only two bits and some chewing gum. Nah, that's got a whole protocol you're betting off not knowing about. You want, I'll make you guys honoraries but the kids are covered."

"So, it's not money. And it's not me or Pepper you're after for something - "

"And I have all the stuff. You made sure of that. No more stuff. You're even fixing the stuff that doesn't work, so I have nothing to even give you to do...and I'm kinda sorry for that." Clint scrubbed the back of his head again, clearly at a loss at how to continue, but struggling to continue nonetheless. "Aw crap, I'm no good at these sort of things. Look, it's hard and it's not. I don't want you to give me anything. I want you to take something, and I can't just hand it to you."

Tony blinked. "Barton, I'm already taking up space in your living room. I could sneak the last of the leftovers from the refrigerator but Cooper would likely end me for it." Shifting on the piano bench, Tony thought about what he could add to that, even got as far as opening his mouth to mention how much of the snowpack he could relocate but the words wouldn't come when he looked Clint in the eye.

"You know, in my line of work? You have to be right. You can't make a mistake, you can't miss. No guessing, that's the thing." Opening callused, dirty hands wide, Clint motioned to include the room in a gesture, eyes bright and glittering. "With you, in New York? First thing, you listened to me, took my direction and went with it. I was right - and that's all I ever had to be."

Dropping his hands back to the chair's back, Clint exhaled through his nose. "I was just being myself, and suddenly you were just another guy. I knew who Tony Stark was, who didn't? I'd be lying if I said was expecting anything different and I was ready to deal with that guy. But I never had to. That guy never showed up. I remember you sitting across the table, making sure I ate as much as you did that night. I remember you putting me in a bed afterward, making sure I could sleep - and yeah, I knew you came by to check on me. You ever sleep at all that first night after?"

Tony found himself responding with a diffident wave of one hand. "It was me or Tallie. I made sure it was me and not Tallie. I owe her."

"She hates that, you know. Tallie. Nobody calls her that."

"I so don't care, she lied to me. Everybody else, she was straight with. Me, she introduced herself by lying to me. She gets the special treatment."

"Everybody else just tries to kill her. You? Endearments and pet names. It's adorable."

Yeah, so that was true. That was Clint, all right. "I didn't sleep," he said softly. "Pepper was still out there. Slept when she did. When she got in." Remembering how fast the Tower had emptied again after sending Thor off, Tony found himself staring out into space. Pepper had taken the Tower down to the ground and rebuilt it, the two of them redesigning it the very next day.

He hadn't slept for months after that. It would have been years, had Killian not interrupted him.

A gentle rap on the top of his head interrupted his reverie. "Hey, where did you go? Dangerous to go alone, you know that." Tony found himself smiling as Clint dragged Tony's attention back to himself. "You need to take me with you. Matter of fact, I insist."

"It's been a busy bunch of years. And - things."

Clint's response was an understanding bob of his head in affirmation. "I might know something about that, yeah. Where's home, bro? Where's home base?"

The words came out like stones dropped into a pond. "No where."

"Wrong." With clear grey eyes looking directly at him, Clint signed a quick spin with his left hand, his expression gentle and open. "This is home base. The free spot on the bingo card. Passing Go. Take your pick. This is where you go and people will take you in, no matter what. You came home, and I'm damn glad you did."

Closing his eyes, Tony shook his head. "Can't imagine why. As you well know, I don't always play well with others."

"Oh, we'll fight. Hell, there are times we are going to _hate_ each other. I'm sure of it. You know what? Fuck it, I don't care. See, that's what you can give me. That's what I want."

"You're losing me here."

Clint leaned forward, shenanigans dancing in his eyes. "All I want for Christmas - is you. Just, more you. Not Tony Stark, just that guy who trusts me, tinkers around my house and fixes all my shit, respects my kids and looks out for me. Without me doing a damn thing to deserve it."

That earned Clint a hard look, it came all on its own. "Tallie comes here."

"She does," Clint replied. "All the time."

"Fury?"

"Sure, door's open. Whenever he wants, which isn't often but yeah. He does."

Tony found himself grinning in spite of himself. "You know what? They say I'm the people collector - _you're the one who actually does it._ Tempting, however you slice it."

"I'm flattered you think so. Then maybe, tomorrow you won't be surprised if the house gets really full."

"What, Santa Claus lives here instead of the North Pole?"

"No, man." Getting out of the chair, Clint patted Tony's shoulder as he left the room. "Everybody comes home for Christmas. It's a thing."

He talked it over with Pepper, the evening meal being a quiet sit down over a lasagne made with ground venison, sweet dark red wine in the sauce; chicken nuggets and baked fries for the kids. "Pep, Barton here seems to think we need keys to his secret clubhouse here. You in?"

One of these days, he was going to have to catch her mid-bite AND frown like that with the phone. Swallowing the bite she had in her mouth, glaring out of the black slits that were now her eyes, Pepper reached for her napkin to genteely blot her mouth before responding. "What took you so long?" she answered.

"My bad, " Clint added, chuckling. "I just wanted plans for the treehouse out back first. She's good!"

Pepper only smiled sweetly as she put the napkin aside. "Honey, I _made_ the keys to the clubhouse. Merry Christmas, Laura."

Tony could only stare back at Clint, who only shrugged. "Just take it, Stark. Best gift you can give me. Only one I can give you."

Looking down at his nearly clean plate, then around the table at three other adults who only looked back with warm, expectant looks on their faces, Tony noted the three children were too wrapped up in their own worlds to notice the gravity of the offer.

Or maybe it happened so often around here, it wasn't anything new or serious. Hell, Tony had been surprised by Nick Fury being in his living room unannounced once upon a time, after that what was one more sneaky sneaky? 

But he only smiled, as kind as he could manage and didn't answer.

There was a telling of the "Night Before Christmas" at the fireplace, the two older children taking turns with Clint and Laura reading it out loud while Tony sat in the armchair, a protective hand on Pepper's shoulder as she sat on the floor next to him. Laura rocked the baby, reciting her part from memory and then rose gracefully to herd the children to bed, turning to look at Clint before leaving the room himself. 

"G'night, city brats. See you in the morning."

Neither of them had fallen asleep right away, Banner was now enjoying a stay on a remote Filipino atoll, getting a tan while catching fish from white sand beaches, plotting how to build a permanent home nobody could find there. 

"Tony, do you think Steve will be one of the people who shows up tomorrow?"

"Nope. He's up at the center upstate, and he's calling it home. I believe him."

"And us?"

"Home is where you are, honey. This thing Barton wants - maybe he needs it. Thing is, I don't know what it is he's after."

Slender fingers twined through his hair as Pepper turned on her side, turning Tony's face to meet his. "Silly," she said. "As I see it, it's pretty simple. He wants to tell you he loves you, but he knows if he just says that you won't believe him. Because you don't believe love exists - not really, and he knows that one."

"Except for you. Special case."

"Case in point, more like. Tony, he loves you and thinks the world of you. And that's all."

The system alerted in the wee hours of the morning, a good-sized sedan driving up the snow-covered roads with the appropriate amount of care. Watching on the screen inside the guest house, Tony wasn't surprised to see Natasha Romanov exit the vehicle, but he was when he saw Wanda Maximoff do the same and hurry inside the main house.

The squealing commenced a few hours after that, and sleep wasn't possible beyond it. Santa had come, children had discovered the goods and there were now two more adults who were there Just For Them.

Kid heaven. What the hell, go have a look.

Nearly bumping into Pepper in the doorway, Tony found himself at a loss once he got a look at the living room. Kids and parents and toys everywhere, but the two new guests were both standing with their backs to them; Natasha at the fireplace, holding herself as if she would fly apart, looking into the flames and Wanda closely examining the Christmas tree across the room, fascinated by the bubble lights Tony had managed to resurrect for one more season.

"Go make peace with the girl," Pepper murmured, making a beeline for Natasha. "Don't die."

"M'am, yes m'am. Sound medical advice."

The Bartons didn't notice Pepper cross the room, except for maybe Clint marking off the sound of her shoes on the hardwood floor before turning back to the baby playing on the floor with the spent wrapping paper. But Natasha did, her head whipping up with a look in her eyes Tony knew all too well.

"Tallie...Tallie." The sounds Pepper made as she took Natasha into her arms, guiding her head to her shoulder were warm and quiet, one hand coming up to cover the back of the smaller woman's head. "He's warm, and safe. Somewhere beautiful, away from anyone who would harm him...." The litany of Banner's Travels, and as he stepped past the two of them, Tony watched Natasha's eyes close, then crinkle shut as she allowed Pepper to rock her, ever so gently. "Oh honey, I am so sorry."

Wanda didn't react as he reached her side. "Bubble lights, something of a thing from the fifties. Reservoirs filled with mostly alcohol, the lights warm it up enough to reach the boiling point way below actually getting hot, that's why they bubble. Were only a thing for a few years, but Barton likes them. Pretty?"

"It's all so beautiful," she answered softly. "Like a dream. That I should wake up from."

"Weird?"

She turned and looked at him then, her gaze candid, but wary. "Very. I do not know exactly why I am here, but my betters thought I belonged here...and so, here I am."

Tony bobbed his head in assent. "Join the club. It looks like it's open enrollment time." 

She looked back at him, puzzled. "I don't understand."

"I don't know how you can stand to be in the same room with me, all things considered. Yet, here we are. What kind of Christmas miracle is this? Peace in our time? Forgiveness? I'm out." Looking back into the tree, Tony allowed his gaze to wander. "I am sorry, you know. About - things. Hope you don't still think I'd ever tried - you know - intentionally tried to harm you or your family, and - "

She was fast, and her fingers were on his lips before he even saw her move. "Don't," she said. "I am as much to blame. You have set an example for me to follow, to make right what I put wrong...however that might be. I was wrong. Very wrong. Please accept my apology, as I accept yours. You have never wished me harm I did not deserve, fully and completely. I will regret my actions every day.

Pulling away, she hugged herself. "I could wish that I met the same fate as my brother," she added quietly. "I miss him so much."

One day, Tony knew he would wonder why he hadn't noticed how pretty Wanda Maximoff was that morning but in the moment, he remembered himself at seventeen, without even Edwin Jarvis to cushion the blow of losing his parents. It was horrible, the worst. And she was just a kid, like he had been.

An arm around her shoulders, a turn back towards the lights on the tree. "He is safe. And loved," he murmured in her ear, as gently as he could manage. "And nothing worse is ever going to happen to him. Ever. He is safe, and beyond all harm. I swear it."

When she turned into his shoulder, and the embrace became complete, Tony found himself meeting Clint's eyes across the room and the archer nodded firmly, grey eyes twinkling. "Welcome home," Tony added. "You'll always be welcome here."

Clint threw him a thumbs up.

Tony responded in kind. He flipped him off, grinning when Clint busted up.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh dear ghad Clint shut up. No, really. SHUT IT. Written fast, but over more days than I intended - hope you liked it and as always, comments cherished and given good homes. Really. Best Christmas present ever.


End file.
